Where Love Has Gone
by InfinityStar
Summary: No one would ever know if he'd heard her. In her arms, his gentle heart had ceased to beat.
1. The Funeral

**A/N: This is the most difficult thing I have ever written. No fluff here. None. Nada. After spending a night reading mostly angst fics, well, this is what happens. I adore Bobby, so this was damn near torture to write. Was gonna be a oneshot, but I've already started on chapter 2. Hope y'all don't hate it...it sure does hurt...**

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She sat in a chair near the casket. Barek brought her to the funeral home every morning and her father brought her to Barek's apartment every night. From eight in the morning until nine at night, she was his, sitting in silence by his side, watching over him as she always had in life. It's what partners did.

Then, Friday afternoon, the director squatted beside her chair. "It's time to take him to the church," he said gently. "We'll let you say good-bye, and then we have to go. Take your time."

She nodded. "Thank you," she managed. It was the most he'd heard her say since the day he'd died, when, still in shock, she had made the decisions family members make. He left the room, closing the doors behind him. She was alone with her partner, one last time.

She got up from the chair and walked to the casket. He looked…at peace. Peace…that was something he had never known in life. Even in her arms at night, his sleep had been restless, haunted by dreams he would never share with her. It was the only part of himself he ever kept from her. Tears spilled freely from her eyes, running down her cheeks. "Oh, Bobby…" Her fingers lightly touched his lips…and she imagined his smile. Not just any smile, but the smile he reserved only for her, the one that always made her feel special, at least to him. It was a rare smile, one that reached his eyes, driving away the haunted look that dwelled there most of the time. His eyes…warm pools of chocolate brown that reflected all the pain in the world. The pain of a childhood that should have been happy, but wasn't. A sick mother who tormented her youngest son in the throes of her illness…the same son who lovingly cared for her until she had finally taken her last journey from reality and ultimately from life. A cruel father who beat his young son for any infraction, or perceived infraction, who abandoned his family for a life of drinking, gambling and women, a life he exposed his young son to early, things Bobby had never forgiven him for. An apathetic brother who pulled away from the family, running from their sick mother and abandoning her to the care of his little brother, entering a dark world of addiction from which he never returned. She had no idea even how to find him, if she were so inclined, which she wasn't.

He knew how dark and cruel the world could be. They dealt with that side of life every day. He felt the pain of every broken body they saw. He touched the cold darkness of the criminal mind with every case. He sank himself into that darkness, retreating from the light, until he had figured it out. Then he came back, back to her. He always came back to her. And she was always waiting for him, relieved when the shadows left his eyes and he was hers again. She hated sharing him with that world, but she knew she had no choice. That was how he justified his existence, how he atoned for the sins of his family.

She rested her hand on his chest, making sure the striped silk tie was straight against his light blue shirt. She dusted the lapels of his dark blue suit, the suit she had chosen for his final journey. Damn, he looked good in a suit. Hell, he always looked good…always… "I'm really going to miss you," she said, a fresh volley of tears streaming down her cheeks. "I…I'm really hurting here, Bobby. I never knew anything could hurt this bad, or I could feel so damn empty." There was a vacancy in her life, a hole in her heart, that had once been filled by her big, gentle partner. As big and intimidating as his body could be, it housed a generous heart and a tender spirit, and no one knew that better than she. She rubbed his chest gently. He had always loved it when she did that…he would close his eyes and softly groan, pulling her closer… "You…you're taking my heart with you. Keep it safe." She leaned over and kissed him one last time. "Good-bye, Bobby. I love you and I'll miss you forever." Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped the chain that bore a simple gold cross. He always said he loved how it looked against her skin, and he would play with it sometimes, late at night, while she slept…or tried to sleep. She gently placed it in his hands. "You hold on to this for me," she whispered, unable to speak any louder.

She rested her head against his shoulder and cried, until she felt a hand rest gently on her back. Slowly, she straightened, stepping away from him for the last time. She watched as they lowered the lid of the casket for the last time. She would never see him again with mortal eyes. The funeral director nodded at his workers. They would meet the pall bearers at the church. She straightened her uniform jacket, remembering how he looked in his dress blues. She wiped impatiently at the tears. With a gentle hand on her arm, the director led her from the room, to the black car waiting outside the door. It would follow the hearse, and she would be with him every step of the way to his final resting place.

When a comrade falls in the line of duty, cops respond. Although he'd had few friends in the department, he was still a brother officer, taken too early by a killer's bullet doing his sworn duty, to serve and protect. She sat in the front pew, her father beside her along with the few officers who were his friends, and the captain and his wife. Behind her, she'd noticed Ron Carver and his wife, along with Bobby's friend Lewis, dressed in a suit out of respect for his lifelong friend. She didn't remember any of the Mass. She did remember finally losing her control, a rare show of emotion, of weakness, collapsing in tears in Mike Logan's arms.

The graveside service had been brief. Her tears had come again with the twenty-one gun salute and the playing of 'Taps.' Again Logan had comforted her. The honor guard had removed the flag from his casket, folded it, and the captain of the guard had presented it to her. She was all he'd had, and she'd been everything to him.

Just about everyone had gone, but she remained in her chair, closest to the head of the casket. Logan and Barek remained with her, and so did her father and Lewis. They let her sit there until she was ready to leave. No one was going to tell her she had to leave him. In some ways, part of her would always be here, in this cemetery. A short distance off, several cemetery workers lingered, waiting for the last of the mourners to leave so they could finish their job. They were patient. They would give them all the time they needed to say their last good-bye.

Finally, she stood up and walked to the casket. Leaning over, she placed a gentle kiss on the polished wood. "I'll always love you. Good-bye, Bobby."

Turning to the small group that waited for her, she again sought comfort from Logan's strong arms. They headed toward the cars. She hugged her father, kissing his cheek and whispering, "Thanks, Dad. I'll call you later."

John Eames looked at Logan and Barek, who nodded at the plea in his eyes. "We'll take care of her," Logan promised. John placed a hand on his shoulder and walked slowly to his car. There had been too much grief in his daughter's life. First her husband, and now…the love of her life…and there was nothing he could do for her. His heart wept for her, and for the loss he, too, felt when his daughter's kind-hearted partner died.

She turned to Lewis and smiled warmly at him. He took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes, replacing them and giving her a hug. "He loved you a lot, Detective Alex," he said sadly. "I've known him since we were kids, and I never saw him love anybody more." He wasn't ashamed of the tears that trailed down his cheeks. "Don't be a stranger. I'll feel…connected to him, if you'd just come by to say hi once in awhile."

She took his tie in her hands and gently straightened it. "We'll have dinner, ok?" He nodded. "Thanks, Lewis." She kissed his cheek and watched him walk to his car, shoulders sagging under the burden of his grief.

Logan opened both passenger side doors, waiting for the women to climb in before closing them and walking around to slide in behind the wheel. Pulling away from the curb, he drove slowly away from the new grave.

The cemetery workers waited until the three cars headed down the road toward the exit before they set to the task of lowering the casket into the grave and covering it with earth.

Eames slumped down in the front seat of Logan's car. He looked in the rearview mirror at his partner, whose tear-brimmed eyes watched her close friend. Logan reached over and took Eames' hand. She gripped his hand tightly. Barek reached over the seat back to rest a hand on her shoulder. Eames had been staying with her since the shooting, but she had not said a word about it, to anyone. Softly, Logan said, "We're taking you to get something to eat, Alex. And we're gonna talk."

She didn't answer. She just squeezed his hand tighter and hugged the folded flag closer to her chest, letting the tears fall freely again.

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Logan ordered for the three of them. None of them really felt like eating, but they knew they had to. It had been a couple of days since any of them had eaten a decent meal. He was seated in the booth beside her. "Talk to us, Alex."

"About what?"

"Tell us what happened."

"I…I can't."

"Yes, you can. You have to. You were the only one who was there."

"No I wasn't," she said, suddenly angry.

He grimaced to himself. "You're the only one who can tell us how it went down," he corrected.

She took a few steadying breaths. Haltingly, she described how she and Bobby had chased their suspect, a cop killer, into the dead end alley. The suspect had turned and fired twice. One shot went wild; the other struck home. Before collapsing, Bobby had fired once, taking out the suspect with his single shot. She had put out the call for an officer down and dropped to her knees beside her partner, cradling his head in her lap. That was where the ambulance attendants had found her, holding him, in the alley, begging him not to die. She found out later that he had died in her arms.

Barek looked down at the table, tears rolling down her cheeks. Logan looked away as well, out the window. "Did…did he say anything, Alex?" Barek asked.

She nodded. "He said his chest hurt…and he told me he loved me, that he always would. That's all."

That was all, but it was enough. He loved her. That was all she needed to know.


	2. It's Not Going to Work

It had only been two weeks, but they had been interminably long for her. She still could not get used to his absence. Summoning all her resolve, she walked into the squad room and strolled to her desk, trying to act as if nothing were different…but who was she fooling? No one. Because everything was different. Everything.

She sat down at her desk and placed her hand on the pile of paperwork that waited for her…and she looked across at the empty desk in front of her. She trembled with the effort to maintain her composure, looking down when the tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't do it. She couldn't look at his desk and forget he would never sit there again. She couldn't pretend he was just late, or out sick, or across the room joking with Logan. Because she knew, and her damn mind wouldn't let her forget that he wasn't coming back.

"Alex?"

She stiffened when she heard Deakins' voice because she knew what it meant. A new partner. But she didn't want a new partner. She wanted her partner. Damn it! All she wanted was _her_ partner!

"Alex, can I see you please?"

_Yeah, sure…let's get on with life and living. As if…_ She got up from her desk and headed to the captain's office, closing the door behind her.

Deakins looked at her with deep concern. "How are you doing, Alex?"

"How do you think I'm doing? I…I'm lost, Captain. That's how I'm doing."

She let her eyes stray to the man in the seat in front of the captain's desk. Geez…he was a kid, not more than thirty, if that. Deakins said quietly, "Alex, this is Roger Tuvelo. He's going to be your new partner."

The words grabbed her heart in a vise, even though she knew they were coming. Her new partner. She managed to control the trembling of her body, although just barely, and Deakins knew her well enough to see the battle she waged with herself. "Tuvelo, this is Alex Eames."

Tuvelo held out his hand. "I've heard of you. Good things. You're a good cop, a smart cop, and I'm pleased to be your partner."

She took his hand, but there was no emotion in her greeting. "Welcome to Major Case." She looked at Deakins. "Anything else, Captain?"

"Are you sure you're ready to be back? If you need more time…"

"More time for what? More time to get used to the fact that he's not getting off that elevator, that he's never coming back? There isn't enough time in eternity for that, Captain."

She turned and headed out of the office, before she lost it in front of him. Tuvelo followed. "So, I hear I'm going to be replacing Goren."

She stopped dead in her tracks. Eyes turned, voices murmured, Deakins came to his door. All eyes were on the diminutive detective who had spent the past ten years steadfastly defending her big, eccentric partner. "Excuse me?" she said in a low voice, full of menace. "_Replacing_ him? Is that what you said? Look, pal, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but no one will ever _replace_ Bobby Goren. You got that?"

He nodded mutely, cowed by her verbal attack. She turned and headed from the squad room. Barek jumped up from her desk and ran after her.

Tuvelo walked slowly to his new desk, where Mike Logan joined him. "Hey," he greeted the new detective, holding out his hand. "Mike Logan."

The newcomer accepted the outstretched hand. Logan leaned against the desk and looked at the stunned man. "I don't know who told you that, man, but you better get that idea out of your head right now. You may be using this desk, but it's still Goren's desk. You may be her partner right now, but she'll always be Goren's partner. Now this is just some friendly advice, but you'd better watch out for her and treat her right, 'cause if you mistreat her in any way, Goren'll come back from the grave to kick your ass." He leaned a little closer. "And if he doesn't, I'll do it for him."

Tuvelo looked uncomfortable. He dropped his eyes down to the desk in front of him. "Uh, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"I've heard, you know, rumors..."

"Quit hanging out around the water cooler, Tuvelo. You got questions, you come to me. Got it?" He nodded. "If I were you, I wouldn't talk to her about Goren unless she brings him up. And for God's sake, remember, you aren't here to take his place with her. No one will ever do that."

He started back toward his desk. "Uh, Logan?"

"What?"

"What I wanted to ask you…uh, word has it they were…more than partners…and the brass knew, and they ignored it, for _years_…That can't be true. Can it?"

"Sure it can, because it was. Yeah, the brass knew. But they weren't just anybody, kid, and the quicker you realize that, the better off you'll be. They were Goren and Eames."

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Eames leaned over the sink, splashing more cold water on her face. She heard the restroom door open but she didn't look up. Barek rested a hand on her back. "I'm sorry, Alex."

"Nowhere near as sorry as I am, Carolyn. I…I don't know if I can do this."

"I don't know either. But you owe it to him to at least try."

She turned her head to look at the dark-haired detective. "I know, I know. He would want me to get on with my life. But how can I do that? He _was_ my life. It didn't start out that way…but it became that way. And now I just don't know what to do without him."

Barek looked uncomfortable, but she said what was on her mind anyway. "You have to find a way to do it, Alex. You have no choice, because he's gone and you have to live without him."

"And that includes putting up with an idiot partner."

"I do," she said with a small grin.

But Eames just didn't have it in her to grin back. She dried her face, whispered a sincere 'thanks' to her friend, and returned to her desk.

Tuvelo looked at her. "I…I'm sorry about what I said, Eames. It was… insensitive."

She studied the young detective. "Just keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you, ok? And never talk about my partner again."

"Uh, I am your partner."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

With a mumbled apology, he pulled out a folder Deakins had given him and set about reading the rules and regs specific to the Major Case Squad.

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The day was interminable. Deakins gave them a case and at the scene, Eames gave Tuvelo a chance to prove himself. "Look around at the scene, Tuvelo, and tell me what you see."

"I see a dead hooker."

"A hooker? What makes you think she's a hooker?"

"Look at the way she's dressed. It says hooker to me."

"And that means…"

"We pass it on to homicide and wait for a real case. Dead hookers don't float my boat, Eames. We shouldn't have gotten called out on this one."

She just stared at him. "Tuvelo, go wait in the car."

She could just imagine what Bobby would say about that!

When they got back to the squad, she stormed into the captain's office. "Since when am I a goddam babysitter?"

"Bad day?"

"I can't work with him. Find me someone else."

He just stared at her. "Alex, it's only been a day. You gave Goren more time than that."

"Goren never told me a case didn't matter because of some pre-conceived notion he had."

Deakins smiled sadly. "Bobby had no preconceived notions."

"Right. And this kid is arrogant and opinionated…he's not Major Case material. Send him off to homicide and get me a different part…" Her voice hung up on the word. She closed her eyes for at least the twentieth time that day. "It's not going to work."

"Alex," he began gently. "Bobby was one of a kind. You…you're not going to find another Goren."

And that was it. She had held on to her control all damn day. Grasping at straws in the dark at times, she had kept it together, until now. She collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her hands. Deakins came around his desk and pulled a chair up beside her, resting his arm across her back in a fatherly way as her grief shook her body again.

When she had pulled herself together, he agreed to her request. He would do everything he could to find her an experienced partner, one who wasn't afraid to follow in Goren's footsteps or to dwell in his shadow.


	3. Almost

The key slid into the lock and she turned it. Pushing the door open, she entered his apartment with Logan behind her. She stopped in the middle of the living room and closed her eyes. She could still smell his cologne, and if she stood there long enough, she could almost imagine he was still alive. Almost.

Logan eased himself into the easy chair he had always favored here. He let his mind stray back to the times they'd spent in this apartment…the four of them…watching television, eating dinner—Goren had been a damn good cook, working cases, getting drunk… damn… he was going to miss the big cop who had come to be such a good friend. That was something he would never have predicted when he first met Goren, or even after he first came to Major Case. He kind of got dragged into it when Barek befriended Eames, and he was glad it had happened. He came to realize why Bobby had been such a tortured soul. He never developed that calloused attitude that helped deal with a past filled with abuse and move past it, like he had. Things always stuck with him and left him with a troubled heart. He had been so glad to see him with Eames. That haunted look vanished when he was with her, and he could almost find peace. Almost, but not quite.

She walked to the couch and slowly sat down, looking at Logan. His heart went out to her. She would never be the same without him. He watched the tears stream down her cheeks. He knew this would be incredibly hard for her, sorting through his stuff, but there was no one else to do it. And she wouldn't entrust it to anyone else. He had been her partner, her lover, her life…and the closest thing to family he had. His will had been simple. He left everything to her. "We don't have to do this now, Alex. We can wait."

"No," she said softly. "I…I can't keep putting it off."

He nodded. "What are you going to do with his books?"

"I'll keep some of them. The rest I'll donate to the library in his…his memory. They knew him there; they'll appreciate the thought." She looked around the room. She would keep some of his things, the things that meant something to her, things that would keep him close. Getting to her feet, she walked around the room, touching the binding of a book on the shelf, picking up the paperweight from his desk. It wouldn't take long to sort through his things; he wasn't big on possessions, so he didn't own much. She opened the cabinet where he kept his DVDs and scanned the movies. She pulled out a handful, ones that had meaning to her, to them. "You can go through the rest of these, Mike. I'm sure he'd want you to have whatever you want." She looked down the hall toward the bedroom. "I need to…to go into the bedroom. I…I don't know how long this is going to take."

"Take your time, Alex." He knew she needed time…time alone with her memories of him, of them.

She slowly opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. The door closed with a click behind her. She could feel his presence most strongly here. She sat down on his side of the bed, picking up his pillow and hugging it close, breathing in the scent of him that permeated it. "Oh, Bobby…" Lying down on her side, hugging the pillow, she cried.

When she'd cried out this wave of tears, she slowly, reluctantly, got up from the bed. She walked to the closet and pulled out his suitcase, laying it on the bed and opening it. Then she began the task of going through his clothes. There were some of his clothes she wanted to keep, just because they were his, and she had loved how he looked when he wore them. Then she set his dress blues in the suitcase, nametag and badge still in place. She ran her finger along his nametag. _Goren_. She closed her eyes and she could see him standing there, in the middle of the room, tying his tie and slipping the tie clip into place. He looked up at her and smiled that sleepy-eyed smile that never failed to touch her heart. She reached out her hand and she could almost touch him. Almost.

She felt a soft whisper of air brush across her cheek…a whisper of breath, like when he would come up behind her and lean close before he kissed her cheek, or her temple, or her neck… But when she opened her eyes, he wasn't there, of course, and she was left feeling even more alone than before. Sighing sadly and cursing her imagination, she turned her attention to the small collection of things on the dresser. Some things she already had at her place… his badge, his gun, his wallet, his watch…all the things they had given her at the hospital after he'd died…and his well-worn portfolio, which he'd left in the car when they took off after the suspect. He had little jewelry…his watch, a gold chain he wore occasionally, and his wedding band. Both the chain and the ring were on the dresser. She took both in her hand. The wedding band…she sat down on the bed and turned the smooth, simple band over in her fingers. It was the band he always wore when they went undercover as a married couple. Early on, it had been great fun to pretend to be married. Later on, they never had to pretend. Though they never took the traditional vows before a priest or magistrate, they had made vows to each other, deep in the night, when they had promised to take care of one another, and to love one another forever. The loving…that had always been easy. As frustrating as he could be at times, it had always been easy to love Bobby. His boyish charm, that impish grin that hid the realities of his past…no, she had never had any trouble with the loving.

Now taking care of Bobby had been a different matter entirely. He spent their entire partnership watching out for her, taking care of her, and he never gave her much of a chance to watch out for him. On the night he died, he'd been watching out for her. He kept his body between her and the suspect. His last act had been to eliminate the only threat to her that existed in that alley. And she had lost him, which had cost her dearly. There was more of Alex Eames in Bobby's grave than there was sitting here, on his bed, holding his ring and crying in a vain attempt to ease a pain that would never go away. She lay back on the bed, pulling the pillow into her arms and willing her heart to stop hurting.

When she could function once again, she slipped the ring onto the chain and placed it around her neck. She would never take it off again. Returning to the dresser, she took his bottle of cologne and tucked it into a pocket of the suitcase. She also took the only framed picture he had in the apartment, a picture of them, from the squad picnic last year. Logan had taken the picture. They had been playing ball, and Bobby had tackled her, bringing her down on top of him, laughing that rare, carefree laugh few people ever heard. They had forgotten themselves in that moment, forgotten where they were, who was around. Well, she had forgotten. Bobby never forgot where he was, who was around him. He had just decided that he no longer cared. He had kissed her…and ended years of speculation regarding the true nature of their relationship. Deakins had called them into his office Monday morning, wanting to know how long…and he warned them never to bring it into their work. That was it. He turned a blind eye to Bobby and Alex so he could keep Goren and Eames.

She kissed the picture of his smiling face, triggering a new wave of regret that she would never kiss him again. Setting the picture lovingly in among his shirts to protect it, she placed the pillow on top and closed the suitcase. It all boiled down to this one suitcase. Aside from the things she had at her apartment, her life with Bobby was in there. But the core of what he had been to her, the memories and the love, that she would carry with her always. She lifted the suitcase from the bed and set it by the door, before she turned and looked around the room. The window…which she loved to look out at night, to see the streetlights cast their glow along the streets of this quiet neighborhood, where he would come up behind her and hold her for as long as she wanted him to. Now she wished she had never let him stop. The bed…where they had first made love, and continued to for years afterwards. The bed…where she had cried in his arms when things overwhelmed her, when life got tough and crashed in around them and where, more rarely, he had cried in hers for the same reasons. The bed…where she had tried, but never succeeded, to chase away the demons that haunted his dreams.

Opening the door, she looked back one last time. She could almost see him lying on the bed, smiling at her. She could almost hear his warm, rich laugh when she found the one spot on his body, on his side below his ribs, that was ticklish. She could almost hear his soft voice, husky with emotion… "I do love you, Eames." Almost.


	4. Dinner With Lewis

She took another bite of the veal parmesan in front of her and gave her dinner companion a small smile. Lewis smiled back nervously. He had been pleasantly surprised when she'd come into his shop the other day. He hadn't seen her since the funeral, although he thought about her often and wondered how she was doing. He was glad she decided to keep in touch, like he'd asked. God, he missed Bobby. He could only imagine how she felt. And he was entirely unsure if she was ready to talk about him yet, so he let her lead the flow of conversation.

This was hard. Lewis had been such a part of Bobby's life that she couldn't look at him without thinking about her late partner, and it was _hard_. Finally, she decided that maybe talking about him would be easier than thinking about him. "What was he like as a teenager, Lewis?"

"Huh?" Was she really asking…did she really want to talk about Bobby?

"Bobby," she said, as if in answer to his thoughts. "What was he like as a teenager?"

Lewis gave it some thought. "Not a lot different than he was as an adult. He thought a lot." He chuckled softly. "Every time Bobby tried to be spontaneous, he would end up in some kind of trouble." His smile faded. "Then he'd get his ass kicked if his dad ever found out."

"But I thought his dad left."

"Yeah, he did. But that doesn't mean he was gone. And his mom couldn't protect him. We were joking around one time, and I accidentally pushed him in front of a car. He didn't get hurt bad, but when his mom found out, it triggered one of her episodes. Then his dad found out, and he beat the shit out of him. His old man hurt him worse than the car did. Bobby's mom was a great lady when she took her meds and had the schizophrenia under control; she was a good mom then. But when she had an episode, man...she was unpredictable. And it was Bobby that always bore the brunt of it. He had a hard time making the decision to put her in Carmel Ridge, but when the illness got out of control, even with meds, he really had no choice. He did everything he could to be a good son."

She smiled a little. "And he was. How often did his dad come to visit?"

"Too often, if you ask me. He'd take Bobby with him to the track and then give him some money, if he had any left, and tell him to come back in an hour or two or whatever. Bobby learned the hard way never to come back early…and never to be late. His old man was a bastard, though you'd never hear him say that. But Bobby was always a survivor. Nothing took him out for the count, until now. I never knew anything bigger than he was. Except you."

"Me?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "You're not a very big person, Detective Alex, but you're a huge presence. Bobby always told me that. He said you saved him from himself and kept him from hiding in the darkness and never coming back out."

She pushed the noodles on her plate around with her fork. "He had such a violent childhood. That damages kids, Lewis. But Bobby…"

Lewis shook his head. "You can't have been close to Bobby and not seen the damage. But he swore he was gonna be better than his old man. And he was. The Army did him a lot of good. He learned discipline without cruelty, he told me."

"He had such a good heart."

"Yeah. He always did. That was all him, Detective Alex. That was something the old man never damaged. Bobby never stopped being able to love. Like I told you the day we buried him, I never saw him love anybody as much as he loved you. Yeah, he was in love with you, but it was more than that, too. I can't explain it, and neither could he. He just...loved you."

It actually felt good to talk to Lewis about Bobby. Some of what he said had hurt to hear, but it gave her new respect for the good and gentle man he had become. It also helped her to understand the rage that dwelled not far below the surface, a rage he learned to suppress and control. It was the rage, in part, that made him so effective in the interrogation room. It was his gentle manner and genuine kindness that comforted victims and made children feel safe. And it was the entire package—good and bad—that she had come to love so dearly.

Lewis took her home and walked her to the door, making sure she was safe and ok, like Bobby had always done. He smiled his innocent smile. "Uh, thanks, Detective Alex."

"For what, Lewis?"

"For letting me take you to dinner, and for letting me talk about him. I, uh, I really...miss him. I was right. You help me stay...connected. You can call me anytime." He kissed her cheek, a slight blush creeping onto his face. "I don't think he'd mind. Good night."

"Good night, Lewis."

She went into the apartment and set her keys on the table beside the door. She looked around the living room, suddenly feeling closed in. Hurrying across the room, she opened the window and breathed deeply of the fresh night air. She loved the night. She sat lightly on the window sill, continuing to draw deep, slow breaths. A breeze stirred the light curtains, sifting lightly through her hair. And on the breeze she caught a faint whiff of Bobby's cologne. She looked down at the street, thinking someone must be walking by, but the street was empty. She must be imagining things. The breeze blew a little stronger, and she closed her eyes, feeling the freshness of the wind wash over her. And again, came a faint whiff of cologne, and with it, the faint brush of a breeze along her neck, like a kiss from the wind. She opened her eyes to an empty room, and she watched the curtains flutter down as the breeze died away. She walked away from the window to three shelves that Bobby had hung on the wall for her over by the couch. She took his picture from the middle shelf, a smiling close-up shot of him in Central Park, hair messed, eyes bright. She ran her fingers across the glass. "Good night, Bobby," she whispered.

When she crawled into bed, pulling his pillow into her arms, she felt closer to him and that made her miss him all the more. She pulled the pillow tight against her chest, and she cried herself to sleep.


	5. A Partner From Her Past

She noticed that the other detectives in the squad were avoiding her, except for Logan and Barek, who understood her grief as well as anyone could. But she really didn't care. She had trouble caring about anything lately. Logan and Barek did what they could, keeping the promise they'd made to her father to watch out for her. And she let them, to a point. Deakins still hadn't found her a partner, so she helped Logan and Barek with their cases. And she sat at her desk, struggling mightily not to cry every time she looked at the empty desk across from her.

She set the last form onto the pile in front of her, half on her desk and half on Bobby's. Paperwork done. He would have still been working on his share. And then she'd take half of what he had left, and he'd smile at her…The pencil in her hand snapped in two. Damn.

"Hi, Alex."

She turned in her chair, frowning at the familiar voice. "Pete?"

Peter Delaney smiled. He had more gray than the last time she'd seen him, and a few more pounds, but he still had that sparkle in his gray eyes that made him seem ten years younger than he was, even if he wasn't really that old. He was what, just a few years older than Bobby.Under normal circumstances she would have jumped up to give him a hug, but these were not normal circumstances and she could garner no real emotion for anything. He noticed the deep sorrow in her eyes, and it pained him. He said quietly, "Long time no see." He walked to Goren's desk and nodded at it. "May I?"

She hesitated for a long moment before nodding. "Ok."

He sat down and looked at her. "I was really sorry to hear about your partner. It was a nice funeral."

"You were there?"

"Yeah. I didn't know him, but I knew of him. You were partners for what? Nine, ten years?"

"Ten."

He shook his head. "That's gotta hurt."

"You have no idea. Why are you here, Pete?"

"I got a call the other day. You know, I'm friggin' ready to retire. Hell, I been countin' the damn days. And I get this call sayin' my old partner needs me."

"What? What do I need you for?"

"Seems you have a partner problem."

"You could say that. My partner's gone."

"Yeah. Deakins told me you're taking it real hard."

"How am I supposed to take it, Pete?"

"You…loved him, didn't you?" She looked away from him. "Don't hide from me, Alex. I can see it in your face. Now I want to hear it, from your heart."

She waited, and so did he. Delaney had been her partner for three-and-a-half years, until she transferred to Vice. He'd been a good partner, and a good friend. Finally she looked at him. "Why are you here, Pete?" she asked again.

"I told you. My old partner needs me. Deakins called in a damn favor. And I figured I owed you one or two, or twelve. I'm putting off my retirement and coming to work here at Major Case. I'm not intimidated by the memory of Bobby Goren. I respected the hell out of him. You need a partner, and I fit the bill."

"What bill is that?"

"Let's see…I'm a veteran cop. I've been shot more than three times and still keep comin' back for more. I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, but I still get the job done at half the wattage. And I'm no threat to you."

"What does _that_ mean? No threat to me?"

"It means I'm not looking to step up to the plate and take his place. I can be your partner, and let you remember that you were his. I won't let you forget that you were the prettier half of Goren and Eames…and the half that let the rest of the world come to know he wasn't quite the nut job everyone thought he was."

"Well, as you can see no one's exactly chomping at the bit to be my partner."

"I can see why. Who wants to follow in the footsteps of a legend? You think anyone can measure up to him? Cops don't like that kind of failure."

"What about you, Pete?"

He laughed. "That's not an issue with me, Alex. I'm too old to try and too tired to care. I can do the job well enough to suit the brass and the captain, and me, and that's all I have to do. I'm smart enough to leave the legend of Bobby Goren untouched. He may be gone, but I won't chase away what he left."

"He left _me_, Pete."

"I know. I'm going to sound clichéd here, but if he's in your heart, he's not really gone. And that's exactly where he is, isn't he? You really loved him."

"More than anyone will ever know."

"Ok. Now I know where I stand. I'm ready to be your partner again. Deakins wants me to be your partner again. And I'm ok with Goren being a part of us, 'cause there's no way he'll stop being a part of you. So…are _you_ ok with me being your partner again?"

"Have you stopped smoking those damn cigars?"

"No, and I never will. But I won't smoke in the car any more."

"Ok, then. I guess we can work it out."

"And you don't mind if I borrow Goren's desk?"

"I don't think he'd mind. After all, you're borrowing his partner."

Delaney smiled. "Yeah, I am. I'll see you in the morning. You bring the donuts, and I'll bring the coffee."

"You remember how I take my coffee?"

"Yep. A drop-and-a-half of milk and two pounds of sugar."

She almost smiled. He winked at her and got up, disappearing into Deakins' office. She leaned back in her chair. Something inside her told her that Bobby would approve.


	6. Whispers on the Wind

_I thought of you with love today but that is nothing new.  
__  
I thought about you yesterday and days before that, too. _

_I think of you in silence; I often speak your name. ___

All I have are memories and your picture in a frame.

_Your memory is my keepsake with which I'll never part.  
__  
God has you in His keeping; I have you in my heart._

It was time…she wasn't sure she was ready, but she had to go. She couldn't abandon him; she swore she never would. She had no idea how this was going to be, and she couldn't do it alone. So she picked up the phone, and she called Mike Logan.

He parked the car and looked out the window. Then he looked at her. "What do you want me to do, Alex?"

"Come and say hi. Then let me be alone with him."

He nodded. "Sure."

They headed from the car across the grass and she slipped her hand into his, for comfort. She slowed as they approached the still-fresh grave, tightening her grip on his hand. The headstone had been placed. An NYPD detective's shield had been carved at its head, above the letters M.C.S. and followed by the words:

Robert O. Goren

Killed in the line of duty

August 20, 1961 – May 10, 2010

_Gone yet not forgotten, Although we are apart,_

Your spirit lives within me, Forever in my heart.

Logan nodded his head. "Nice, Alex."

She squeezed his hand before she released it and gave him a gentle nudge toward the headstone. He dropped to one knee beside it, placing a hand on the smooth marble. It had always seemed pointless to him, talking to the dead. But in Goren's case it just…made sense.

"Hey, big guy. I…I really miss you, you know. Nothing's the same without you." He was quiet for a minute, as if listening, but he wasn't listening…he was feeling. Slowly he stood up, looking at Eames, then back at the grave. "We're taking care of her for you. Of course, no one ever did that as well as you did. But we're doing our best."

He walked away, stopping just before he got to her and looking back. "Hey," he said. "If you run into Lennie Briscoe up there, tell him I said hi."

He stopped beside Eames, and responding to an urge that came out of nowhere, he gently kissed her cheek. He choked back his emotions, but his voice was tight as he said, "That…that was from him. He's all yours now, sweetheart. I'll wait in the car. Take all the time you need."

She watched him walk away before she turned back to the grave. She knelt beside the headstone, sitting back on her heels. "Hi, Bobby." Reaching out, she laid her hand on the dirt, noticing the fresh sprouts of grass that were beginning to grow. "I…I miss you so much. It's so…hard to do this without you. I really don't have any idea how to make it work." She ran her hand over the cool marble of his headstone. "I…I'm really mad at you for this, Bobby. You should have let him take us both out. Then…then I wouldn't hurt so damn bad." She sat down on the edge of the dirt, resting against the headstone. "How do I make it work? How do I go on living without you?"

She closed her eyes, and she could see him in her mind as clearly as if he were really there, just a little way off from where he was buried. He strolled toward her with his easy grace and sat with her, leaning back against the headstone. _I really haven't gone anywhere, Eames. Death isn't an ending. It's a whole new beginning. I'm right here with you, all the time. Just look inside you, in your heart, and there I am._ He reached out to lay a hand on her cheek, and she could feel a feathery wisp of air caress her where his hand touched. _You never have to be without me._

Her throat hurt from holding in the tears, and her eyes burned. "It's not the same, Bobby."

_No. And it never will be. But can I tell you something?_

"Of course."

In her mind's eye, he tipped his head forward, to catch her eye. There was a boyish grin on his handsome face and he let his finger stroke the back of her hand. She felt a light breeze blow across her hand as he caressed it. _I don't hurt anymore, Alex. Everything that haunted me during my life is gone. All I have left now is you. You were all that was best in my life, and you are what I haven't let go. And I'm happy._

She looked into his eyes and she wished she could touch him. "You say you're with me. How long will you stay?"

_As long as you need me to._

"And if I find that I can never let you go?"

_Then I'll be here. Just like I always was. I'll wait for you. I really don't want to go anyplace without you, anyway._

He leaned closer to her, and his lips touched hers… She opened her eyes. She placed her fingers on her lips, which tingled and felt warm. But there was no one sitting by her. She rested her hand on the ground in front of her, gently rubbing circles the way she used to on his chest and his back. "I…I love you, Bobby."

_I love you, too, Eames,_ his voice whispered on the wind, as clearly as if he were standing behind her. She looked over her shoulder, but no one was there.

She kissed the marble headstone and whispered, "I'll be back."

_I'll be waiting,_ the wind whispered, caressing her body.

She got up and slowly walked back to the car, where Logan waited. And as she walked, she could feel him with her. In the warmth of the sun, she could feel his love. In the wisp of the breeze, she could feel his touch. In the whisper of the wind, she could hear his voice. She would never feel alone again.

She slid into the passenger seat and Logan studied her. "You ok?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"You…felt him, too."

She nodded. "He's here, Mike." She rested a hand on her chest, directly over her heart. "And he's never going to leave."

_Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you. I loved you so--'twas Heaven here with you.

* * *

_

**A/N: The phrase Alex chose for Bobby's headstone is a beautiful phrase, but it's not mine. I could not find an author listed anywhere, so I credit it to the anonymous person who wrote it. _I thought of you today_ is also credited to its anonymous author. _Grieve not_ is credited to Isla Paschal Richardson. Of course, I own none of the L&O franchise. They are all Dick Wolf's...and I apologize for not taking care of them this time around. If it's any consolation, this was an infinitely difficult piece to write and I shed at least as many tears as y'all did. I do love Bobby Goren :-)**


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